


My Brother's Keeper

by CLeighWrites



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Brother/Brother Incest, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Talks Dirty, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Needy Sam Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sub Sam Winchester, Supernatural Broment Bingo, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2020, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, mentions of deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: After a hunt goes wrong, Dean does what he needs to in order to help Sam get out of his spiraling dark thoughts.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Past Sam Winchester/Sarah Blake
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615648
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	My Brother's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by one of my patrons, @kickingitwithkirk to fill two bingo squares: Broment Bingo - Silent Communication and Kink Bingo - sub!Sam (Wincest, per request). I do not personally see Sam as a sub, so I had to rectify that in my own head in order to write this! I hope it worked out!! 
> 
> Since the bro-love isn’t everyone’s cuppa tea, I put in a marker before they get touchy, so if you still wanna read some silent conversation but don’t want it to get explicit, stop reading at the ****

It had been a rough hunt. Two of the people they had tried to save had ended up dead. One of them was a girl who had reminded them both of that Sarah girl from New York all those years ago. Dean drove in stoic silence as Sam stared out into the black night with his head resting on the window, his legs tucked up a little closer to his chest than usual. 

They were still half a day’s drive back to Lebanon, Dean was beat, and he had to make sure Sammy was alright. The next patch of civilization they came across boasted an inn with “clean beds and cable TV!” so Dean pulled into the parking lot, left Sam in the car, and got them a King with a view of the pool. He rapped on the window for Sam to get out, carried on to the trunk, grabbed both of their duffles, then lead the way to their room.

Once the door was shut and locked and the salt lines had been lain, Dean dipped into Sam’s bag and grabbed their toiletries. Sam was closer to the bathroom, so he made a noise to get his attention before he tossed over the small leather bag. He barely managed to swipe it with his fingertips as it sailed by his elbow.

Sam made a heartbreaking, disgruntled sound as the bag thudded to the floor. Dean raised his eyebrows when Sammy turned his lost puppy eyes to him and offered a lip quivering sigh and a half shoulder shrug as a response. 

“Sammy-” Dean’s voice broke around his brother’s name, but Sam just attempted a smile, bent down to retrieve the bag with a grunt, then stepped into the bathroom. 

Dean ran his hand down his face then massaged the back of his neck a bit before following his brother into the bathroom. He knew when Sam got into a certain headspace there was usually one thing that would help him work through it. Although he was dog-tired, he’d do anything to help out his emotionally damaged baby brother. 

When he rounded the corner he was treated with the broad expanse of his brother’s shoulders hunched over from where his hands were braced on either side of the sink. Neither of them bothered with turning on the light, the room was lit enough to move around with the light from the main room. Dean rested a hesitant hand on Sam’s shoulder, a comforting, hopefully grounding gesture. 

Sam’s head hung lower at the touch and Dean gave him a squeeze. “We couldn’t have saved her, Sammy.”

He started to respond but had to clear his throat to get the words out. “I know.” He shook his head then made eye contact with Dean in the mirror. 

His eyes were wet with unshed tears and his lips twitched their way into a pleading smirk, his brow furrowed. He was putting on his _“I know what needs to happen and I’m not okay so let’s just move past this part”_ face. Dean didn’t need any further explanation and gave him a short nod in understanding, _“I got you, baby brother.”_

****

What came next was not something that they did very often, hardly ever really, but sometimes Sammy needed to be taken care of, reminded that he is not worthless, that he is necessary and loved and cared for. Dean was more than willing to do this for him; their whole lives he was programmed to ‘watch out for Sammy’, ‘take care of Sammy’. Of course, at some point, those needs had changed, and their relationship right along with them. As long as Dean had tried to fight it, there was just no use; they were literally created by _God_ to be together. 

Dean turned on the shower to warm up, then turned back to Sam and grabbed the shoulders of his jacket and flannel to hold it up for him to shrug out of. He piled the discarded clothes outside of the bathroom door and continued to help Sam undress. Once his brother was ready, he quickly shed his clothes and stepped into the tub. Sam handed him the shampoo and soap out of their bag and followed him in. 

In a practiced routine, Dean washed Sam’s hair and body, paying special attention to his shoulders, where he carried most of his guilt and regrets. When he was finished, he let Sam do the same for him. His brother’s touch was strong but reverent as he washed the blood, grime, and sweat off of him. 

The water was just starting to cool by the time they were both clean but as good as it would have felt to rinse off in the cold water, Dean had more important duties to attend to. After shutting off the water, he dried Sammy off, tossed the damp towel in front of the sink, then readied himself. 

Sam was sat patiently on the edge of the bed; the covers folded neatly down to the foot. He looked up with a small smile as Dean made his way over to him. Once he was within arms-length, Dean reached out and put his hand on the side of his brother’s stubbled cheek. Sammy hummed and leaned into the touch, then closed his eyes and nuzzled into Dean’s palm. 

As much as Dean would love just to cuddle up and hold his brother until they both passed out from exhaustion, he knew that was not an option for Sam right now; he needed to let go, get out of his own head. The quickest way Dean knew of to distract his baby brother’s overactive brain was to give him a task. 

With a little added pressure with his pinky finger, Sam snapped to attention and looked up into Dean’s eyes. He still looked heartbroken and wrecked, but his eyes were clearer now, focused, willing. Dean raised his eyebrows and smirked as he thrust his hips forward, bouncing his hard cock in front of Sam’s face. 

Sam grinned, not requiring a verbal command, and leaned forward to trace his tongue around Dean’s crown. The appreciative hum that bubbled up from Dean’s chest reverberated throughout his body, straight down his cock, and into his brother’s waiting mouth. Without prompting, Sam took Dean as deep into his mouth as he was able, coating his dick with spit before pulling off and taking him in again further and further with each pass until Dean was hitting the back of his throat. 

“Mmm… so good for me, Sammy,” Dean praised. 

His hand had moved to thread through Sam’s still damp hair, and Dean gave him a little tug and held him in place for a moment, reveling in the feel of his brother’s lips and tongue working over his flushed, taut skin. Sam was breathing heavily through his nose and spit started to drool out of the corners of his mouth before Dean released him. 

Sam slurped his way off of his cock then went right back to work, using his lips and tongue and just a little bit of teeth, the way Dean loved it. Dean almost let himself get lost in the feeling of his brother’s perfect mouth when he remembered that he had a job to do, to make Sammy forget. 

“That’s it, baby boy, get me nice and hard for you.” Sam moaned around the mouthful of cock he was massaging with his tongue. “Gonna fuck you so hard, Sammy.” Sam took him in deep enough for Dean to feel his throat gag on his head, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth. “Fuck, Sammy. Mmm, you’re so good for me. Choking on your big brother’s cock like the cum slut you are. You’re gonna let me fuck all your holes, aren’t you, baby boy?”

Sammy applied the most spectacular suction as he pulled himself away from Dean’s cock, that Dean almost held him in place again. 

“Yes, Dean. Please.” 

Sam’s voice was wrecked but also more steady. He wasn’t thinking about that girl that wasn’t Sarah; he was only thinking about pleasing Dean, but he hadn’t quite shut off completely, however they were just getting started. 

“Please, what, Sammy.” Dean reprimanded.

“Please fuck me, big brother.” Sam cast his eyes down and nuzzled his face against Dean’s spit-slick cock, making Dean’s heart clench in his chest.

Dean grabbed the side of Sam’s face again and this time tilted it up as he bent down to capture his slippery, swollen lips in a kiss that was just as hot as it was reassuring. The tanginess of his own precome mixed with the taste that was all Sam, while Dean took his time exploring his brother’s mouth. Tensed up muscles turned to butter under Dean’s touch, the urgency in his brother’s lips faded with each swipe of his tongue, and before he even had him laying out underneath of him, Dean had Sam malleable and needy in his hands. 

Their legs slotted together without incident as their mouths worshiped each other; hands found purchase where they could elicit the most pleasure from the other, and their cocks laid, ignored, alongside one another. When Dean was fairly certain he needed to move things along, he stretched a hand out toward his duffle that was on the floor beside the bed. Sam grabbed his wrist hard and then instantly loosened his grip, his wide eyes turned to Dean’s. 

He was slightly panicked, having broke from his submissive state, but in addition to that, he was asking Dean not to get the lube. He wanted this to hurt. Dean made sure to convey worry in his eyes as he shifted his weight and started to shake his head. At the same time, Sam put some pressure on Dean’s wrist, trying to lead his hand down between his legs. Dean refused to hurt him, even if he thought he deserved it; he was not about to cause his baby brother any more pain than what he was already inflicting on himself. 

Dean pulled his hand from Sam’s still loose grasp and decided to compromise. Sam’s lips opened reluctantly for Dean to slide two of his fingers through and into his mouth to get them wet. He tried to suck them mostly dry when he started to pull away, but Dean wouldn’t have that. As quick as he could, he flicked his fingers to the very back of Sam’s throat, spurring his gag reflex and causing him to both salivate more, and open his mouth so that Dean could retrieve sloppy wet fingers to work Sammy open with. 

Sam started to respond with his signature bitch-face, but Dean stopped him cold with a single raised eyebrow. After all the time they’d spent together, even under these circumstances, Sam knew better than to try to argue with Dean when it came to his own wellbeing. Dean was Sam’s greatest champion, even going up against himself. There was no one, alive or dead, that would take better care of his baby brother than Dean would, regardless of the conditions. 

A quick peck of their lips put the whole situation behind them before Dean lowered his hand to wriggle it between their bodies and under Sam’s balls to prod at his tight ring of muscle. Sam’s back arched as Dean applied pressure with both fingers. He would never breach him unprepped, but he knew that Sam enjoyed a certain level of pain when he got into such a dark headspace. He rubbed his fingers around the muscle there, feeling it flutter at his touch, begging to be penetrated, and when Sam was incoherently writhing beneath him, he relented and pushed through with his middle finger. 

The intrusion was hindered, only slightly, by the mostly dried spit on his finger, the skin sticking more than gliding as he made his way in. He straightened his finger to work it in deeper, earning a deep moan from Sam, who shimmied his hips to try to shove himself down further onto Dean’s finger. 

“Patience, baby boy. I’m going to take care of you. You’ll be grinding down on my cock before you know it.” Sam let out a long breath and stilled himself. “Always so good for me.”

Once Dean was sure that Sam was ready for him, he leaned over to get the lube from his duffle without any resistance. Being teased and fondled the way he had been, had gotten Sam closer and closer to being able to check out altogether. Dean loved being able to do this for his little brother, take his mind off of all the shit they had to deal with and showing him just how much he loved him and wanted to take care of him. It meant just as much to him, being able to do this for him, as it seemed to mean to Sam, who was always so grateful afterward. 

With the lube in hand, Dean slicked up his cock, then for good measure, and to see Sam’s eyes roll back in his head, Dean folded three of his lube-slicked fingers together and teased Sam’s ass a little bit more. The deep groan, accompanied by a pant for air, from his brother was all the signal Dean needed to know that Sam was more than ready for him.

The lube was tossed aside and forgotten about as Dean lined himself up. He brought his hand up to cup Sam’s cheek, thumb brushing his cheek to coax his eyes open. When he had his little brother’s attention, he leaned in to press their lips together as he thrust his hips forward. Twin groans filled the otherwise quiet room. Dean took his time bottoming out, not wanting to snap Sam out of his comfy headspace; he just wanted to make his brother feel good, distract him into a more pleasant state of mind. 

Artificially cool air circulated throughout the room when the wall unit kicked on, Dean neither felt the cool air nor heard the unit aerating its chilled air as he took care of his baby brother. Sam’s breathing and facial expressions and physical reactions were all he had the capacity to recognize while he focused on his task. Every sharp intake of breath, every twitch of his lips, every furrow of his brow with his eyes screwed shut, every dig of his nails into Dean’s shoulders was an affirmation; Sammy was slipping further and further into his subspace. 

They built each other up the way only the other knew how to do. Before too long, Sam was letting himself be led, not thinking about what to do or what Dean would like him to do; he was just letting it happen, finally shutting off his brain. Sam was always in his head too much, trying to figure everything out, be one step ahead, and it took its toll on him. When Sam first discovered BDSM and subspace, Dean had been more than happy to help his brother figure out how to release control. 

Once Sam threw his arms above his head to hold himself steady and give himself more leverage to match Dean’s thrusts, Dean knew that Sam was ready to come. Words had never been needed between them to express themselves, most of the time. Their near inhuman ability to read each other’s minds had been a product of several different things: their upbringing with an angry alcoholic father, sneaking around their uncle Bobby’s house, and hunting, having to be quiet and still needing to be on the same page were imperative for most of their childhood. Developing their unique way of talking without words was necessary for their survival. 

Sammy was surprisingly bendy for a sasquatch, and Dean loved nothing more than grabbing behind Sam’s knees and folding him in half to plunge in as deep as he was physically able to. He made sure to keep the angle of his hips just right to graze Sam’s prostate with every thrust and set a brutal pace. Sam came untouched with a groan that made Dean lose his rhythm; it was guttural and so raw that he almost thought he had hurt his little brother. He recovered his composure quickly and was pulsing his release in deep after another few sloppy thrusts. 

Taut muscles relaxed and stretched as Dean lowered Sam’s legs. A sappy smile was occupying Sam’s lips, his eyes peacefully closed, and his head lolled to the side as Dean shifted his weight to pull himself out without crushing him. When Dean was freed, Sam let out a contented sigh and reached out to pull Dean toward him. Having just showered, Dean didn’t really feel like getting spunk all over his stomach by laying on top of his blissed-out little brother, but there was no way he could deny him. 

Sam held him tight for quite a while, running his fingers through his hair, down his spine, and back again. The rise and fall of his chest was soothing in and of itself, combined with the light touches Dean was being pulled to sleep. With a herculean effort, he extricated himself from Sam’s embrace and ran the water in the sink to get hot, wetted a wash rag, rung it out, and wiped himself down, then repeated the process for Sam. 

Once they were no longer in danger of an accidental waxing in the morning, Dean shut off the lamp by the bed, pulled the covers over his sleeping giant of a baby brother, and crawled in with him. Sam rolled over, facing away from Dean, and reached behind him to grab Dean’s arm and pulled him in close. He entwined their fingers and brought them to his chest. Dean tucked his other arm under his pillow then closed his eyes, following Sam’s even breathing into a blissfully vacuous unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, let me know what you think!


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